


Impasto

by LittleLinor



Category: Sdorica (Video Games)
Genre: Blood Kink, Dedicated to everyone who thirsted after Izumi's sword, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Snuff, Sunset arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 23:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: It's a good thing their prey wasn't a demihuman. Explaining that one away to Nigel would have been a pain.(Izumi gets their murder on)
Kudos: 4





	Impasto

**Author's Note:**

> [Impasto](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impasto): a technique used in painting, where paint is laid on an area of the surface in very thick layers, usually thick enough that the brush or painting-knife strokes are visible.

The human comes from the East, but not on any of the paths travellers, as few as they are, usually walk on, the sturdy roads and wide avenues of the once-splendid trade city.  
They have to give praise where praise is due: the demihumans have been extremely thorough in their plans to not let anyone catch on to their location, so the arrival of a spy means that Theodore is keeping tabs on Atlas just for the sake of keeping tabs on it. Which he should, of course, but they would have expected him to be too busy fighting his darling niece to bother.  
As for Angelia herself, well… from what they know of her, if the Princess ever takes interest in Atlas, she would likely come here herself. They would probably give her another week or two. There aren’t many solutions to her current stalemate, after all.  
But for now, what keeps Izumi’s interest much more than the squabbling of the Carlos family is the lone human making his way up a small, cramped valley of sorts between two of the many peaks of the Atlas range. So brave! So foolish. So fortunately (enjoyably) alone.  
Well. Theodore probably won’t shed a tear or worry too much about one missing spy. Spies tend to go missing. It’s part of the job description. And the Atlas mountains are so treacherous~  
That aside, it’d be inconvenient if he showed up. They’ve only just found a new toy, after all. Gaining his trust took _effort_.  
And while said toy is distracted (and, more importantly, keeping Yamitsuki equally distracted), they slide out of the castle and hop in the direction of the mountains their prey is trying to cross.

“You’d have an easier time taking the road, you know~”  
The man—it is indeed a man, they can now confirm, and as expected from his soul energy, human—almost falls back into the snow, yelling in surprise and scrambling to get away from the sudden appearance of a person he hadn’t detected. Izumi smiles and gives him time to get his bearings. It wouldn’t do to rush things; they haven’t had a chance to properly enjoy themself in ages, no matter how entertaining Nigel might be.  
It’s nice, to be able to take their time. Much better than their time in the Eastern Alliance, for sure.  
“W-who are you?!”  
“I’m just a demihuman~ This is our territory, you know!” They bring a hand to their mouth, the perfect picture of surprise. “Oh, right, you don’t know. How unfortunate.”  
He doesn’t answer. It would be boring, if it wasn’t for that delicious light of fear in his eyes. Oh, the exhaustion and cold are definitely doing their work for them. They would barely need to poke to break him.  
A shame.  
“Juuuuust to make sure, you’re one of Theodore’s spies, right? Not Angelia?”  
His eyes harden, then. Ah, so he still has some professionalism in him. Not that it’ll do him any good.  
“Not answering? I guess it doesn’t matter. If you were in any way relevant, we’ll find out sooner or later. Otherwise, well…” They smile. “I’ll remember you~ Are you flattered?”  
There. Fear, coming back to the man’s eyes, his face. Barely hidden under his attempts at looking serious and threatening. It really is adorable.  
But as fun as it is to toy with them, a cornered animal can be dangerous in its own way. The last thing they need is for him to have the presence of mind to scream and draw attention.  
“Well then…”  
They open their parasol, a little flick of the wrist and a rustle of paper to draw the prey’s eyes to the flash of green, and step, faster than the blink of an eye, behind him, their knife already pulled and pressed against his neck. 

They allow themself, rashness of the bored, one second, just to savour that little gasp of fear, the last of that breath, the terror that grasps one’s mind and makes one freeze when movement might have saved them. And then, before he can come back to his senses, before his mind can process anything other than his impending death, they pull, slice, keeping his body pressed back against them, and the blood flows, splattering on the snow like it once did whenever they flicked their sword, and what’s left of his breath mixes with the blood, bubbles in wet splashes just shy of Izumi’s ears, singing sweeter than any voice ever would.  
They sigh. How beautiful it is, this desperate struggle of life trying to grasp for another day, another second. How endearing people are, full of hope; how even more endearing they are, sliding into despair. It’s in their eyes that it shines the brightest, but this is good too, holding the prey’s twitching, trembling body to their chest, listening to the splatter of blood on the ground, the bubbling of it in his lungs. Patting his head, once he’s stopped struggling altogether, a reassurance that his life wasn’t altogether pointless, since his death is so much fun.  
He stops moving altogether, and they drop him, stepping back to their parasol to admire their work, the blood seeped into his fur cloak, the expression printed onto his sparkless eyes, the open mouth. The blood on the snow is already congealing, but its pattern is almost artistic; it almost feels nostalgic to flick what’s left off their knife and complete the pattern. They will have to cover it, of course, just in case, and gently nudge the body down a crevice, but that doesn’t mean they can’t admire it for a moment. An ode to the chaos of the world and the transience of life.  
Well. When one isn’t an Immortal, anyway.

“There you are,” Nigel says as they walk back into the castle. “Where have you been?”  
“I was checking the roads,” they answer. “It would be a shame if someone came to join us only to get attacked and contaminated by monsters at the last moment.”  
Nigel’s face darkens. Ah, such a tragedy that was. Izumi almost feels bad.  
“… you have a point. I wanted to set up a regular guard duty, but…”  
“We’re short on hands. I know, don’t worry~” They smile. “I’ll keep a lookout when I have time.”  
“Don’t put yourself in danger either. You might be strong, but with those monsters, all it takes is a moment of inattention. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”  
“Aww. You’re sweet, Nigel. I like that about you.”  
He turns away. Adorable.  
“… just tell me when you’re going out for this. I’ll go with you.”  
“Okay~”

**Author's Note:**

> Am I the only one who can't look away from the little twitches of Izumi's ears? It's so bad I'd actually forgotten the colour of their parasol and had to go check.


End file.
